Flats
by CheerfulChemist
Summary: This story happens after "Under Fire." It is AU in that Pi is gone and follows from my other stories but other than that, it is cannon. Kate has injured her ankle and can't wear heels. We'll see how that affects her outlook. Flats also refers to the pallets at the murder scene. I own nothing, but trust in AWM and company. Follow me on twitter @CheerfulChemist.
1. Chapter 1

Flats

Chapter 1

"Stop right there Mickey," Beckett yelled. The scraggly man took off down the street with Beckett in full pursuit and Castle trailing only slightly. Beckett was about to take him down when her foot hit an orange splotch on the sidewalk and she went down. Esposito rounded the corner from the other direction. "Espo, get him!" Beckett called.

Mickey was slammed to the sidewalk and cuffed by a none too gentle Esposito as Castle crouched at Beckett's side. "You OK, Kate?" Castle asked.

"Yeah Castle," Beckett answered. "I just slipped."

Castle extended a hand to help her up, while looking down at the slippery culprit. "It was pizza," Castle observed. "Probably Authentic Terrific Nick, he uses way to much oil."

"I prefer Original Nick myself," Beckett said coming to her feet. She winced as she put weight on her left foot and leaned on Castle's shoulder.

"What's wrong?" Castle asked.

"Must have twisted my ankle," Beckett answered. "Probably just a sprain."

Castle swept her up in his arms. "We'll find out," he told her. "I'm taking you to the hospital."

"Castle, don't be ridiculous," Beckett protested.

"Humor me." Castle told her. "We're going."

After a wait of several hours in the emergency room where cases that were judged by the triage nurse to be more serious were seen, Beckett suffered what she considered the indignity of unnecessary X-rays. A doctor finally came back to her with the results. "Detective," Dr. Ross explained, "you've actually suffered a minor break. The bones aren't out of alignment, so surgery won't be required, but you will need extra support while it heals. I would suggest high top sneakers."

"Castle, I don't even own a pair of high top sneakers," Beckett complained as a cab took them toward the loft.

"This from the woman who has taken over more than half the closet space with shoes," Castle teased. "OK, when we get back, you'll put your leg up with some ice and I'll go get you some."

After making sure that Beckett was comfortably ensconced on the couch with everything she could need within reach, including a pair of crutches, Castle set off in search of sneakers. A quick search on his phone had found the Rivington Club, an exclusive high end athletic shoe store. Castle had to find it by the address, as there was no sign. He rang to be admitted. After explaining the situation to an excruciatingly helpful salesman, he was given a wide array of choices in Beckett's size. Knowing that Beckett needed a collection of styles to suit her moods, he bought six pair for her, making sure that he had at least one in purple as well as a tiny pair as a gift for Sarah Grace Ryan. The salesman went from helpful to obsequious as he calculated that his commission on the sale would probably cover a good deal of his rent for the month. He urged Castle to return if his fiancee needed anything else.

Beckett was charmed by the baby sneakers and amused by the rest of Castle's purchases especially high tops covered in glitter for evening wear. Beckett was forced to choose a pair to wear soon enough when her phone buzzed. Esposito reported that a body had dropped. Beckett chose the most sedate shoes from Castle's collection.

With Ryan out on the few days that still remained of his parental leave, Esposito was working solo. The scene was in a large industrial building near the docks. Castle and Beckett entered through a huge roll-up metal door. "Yo!" he called as Beckett and Castle approached. "The victim is one Ernesto Garcia. He worked here as a fork lift driver."

Beckett felt slightly uncomfortable when she found that instead of looking down at Esposito, as she did wearing her usual heels, he was actually fractionally taller.

Castle observed the body, skewered on the lift and surrounded by wooden pallets. "Wow, stick a fork in him!" he quipped.

"Actually, Mr. Castle," Perlmutter said, rising from a crouch near the body, "the fork wasn't the cause of death. It appears to be blunt force trauma. As you can see from the lack of blood, he was already dead and supported by a stack of those flats," Perlmutter expounded, indicating the pallets, "when the fork penetrated his chest."

"Any sign of the murder weapon?" Beckett asked?

"I have unis looking for it now," Esposito responded.

"How about next of kin?" she inquired.

"Sister, Rosa," Esposito responded. "She'll be coming to the precinct when she gets off work."

"All right," Beckett said. "Set up a canvass and find out about any co-workers who might know something. Castle and I will head back to the precinct to talk to Rosa."

Beckett talked to Rosa in the lounge, with Castle sitting quietly behind her.

"Rosa," Beckett said, "we are so sorry for your loss, but I need to ask you some questions. Do you know of anyone who would want to hurt your brother?"

"No," Rosa answered, swiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. Beckett handed her a box of tissues. "But he said he thought something was wrong at work," Rosa continued. "He didn't tell me what, but it was making him nervous."

"Did he have a girlfriend, someone else he might talk to?" Beckett asked.

"Esperanza. She should be on his phone. He called her all the time."

Beckett thanked Rosa and gave her a card.

"You doing OK?" Castle asked Beckett after Rosa was gone.

"Yeah, Castle. This is always the hard part, you know."

Castle nodded and put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Beckett put an appreciative hand over his. "We need to find Esperanza."

Beckett contacted CSU and retrieved Garcia's phone. It contained full contact information for Esperanza. Beckett and Castle went to see her. If anything, the interview was more difficult than the one with Rosa. Between sobs, Esperanza told them that Ernesto had been in line for a promotion and they had been talking about a future together. Now that was all gone. She was able to confirm that Ernesto had been concerned about something at work and that he was looking into it, but she had no details.

It was getting late and Beckett was limping badly. It didn't take much urging from Castle to convince her to call it a day and return to the loft. "Castle, this really isn't necessary," she protested as he carried her through the door and laid her gently on the couch."

"Just let me take care of you," he told her, putting a couple of pillows under her bad ankle. "You took care of me when I broke my knee and I don't even have to give you a phony murder. We have a real one. You want one of the pain pills you got from the hospital?"

"That would be nice, Castle, and dinner would be even nicer."

"Coming right up," Castle told her.

Castle put together a quick stir fry and brought it to Beckett. Using chopsticks he fed her pieces of chicken and crisp vegetables in spicy sauce. "That's good, Rick" Kate sighed.

Rick gently kissed the sauce from her lips. "You taste better," he said.

Holding his face in her hands, Kate kissed him back. "So do you."

Rick lifted her legs and laid them across his lap. "Ready for dessert?" he asked.

Kate ran her finger down the stubble just forming on his jaw. "I've been waiting for it all day."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Kate was stuck lying on her back because her foot was in a wastebasket that was holding the weight of the sheets and blankets off her ankle. Rick heard the little snuffling noises she had been making stop and decided she must be awake. "Hey, how's your ankle?" he asked, lightly stroking her cheek.

"Annoying," Kate griped. "I don't like sleeping in that position."

Rick grinned and wiggled an eyebrow. "Now that you're awake, you can always pick a position that you like better."

"What did you have in mind?' Kate asked.

Rick sat on the edge of the bed and lifted Kate to sit on his lap with her legs behind him. He grabbed a pillow and put it under her foot. "See," he said,"your ankle is up and we can talk face to face."

"Talk?" Kate asked.

"Among other things," Rick answered, bringing his lips to hers.

The heat rising between them banished any thoughts of her ankle from Kate's mind. As the kiss deepened, and Rick's arms came around her, Kate pushed even closer, until there was no space between them. She needed more. They came together as one, rocking in an ancient rhythm until fulfillment spread outwards in a series of concentric waves. Rick held Kate tightly as the onslaught hit and she rested her head against his chest as the rush ebbed into comforting stillness.

Beckett came into the 12th in black leather high tops that matched her favorite black leather jacket. Somehow everything seemed just a little off. The desks seemed a little higher and her colleagues a little taller. It wasn't much, but it niggled at the back of her mind. Once she was seated at her desk and Castle had brought her coffee, things seemed back to normal.

Beckett went over the list of Ernesto Garcia's co-workers to be interviewed. The first of them, George Murphy, had just been brought into the lounge by LT. Beckett and Castle took seats opposite the white haired man.

"Mr Murphy," Beckett asked, "what can you tell us about Ernesto Garcia?"

"Ernesto was a fine young man, a good worker," Murphy answered. "I was his supervisor. I'm in charge of shipping and receiving and I'll be retiring soon. Ernesto was one of the people we were looking to move up."

"Can you think of anyone who might want to hurt him?" Beckett asked.

"Maybe Julio Cortez. He had a thing for Esperanza, Ernesto's girlfriend, when she used to work for us. It's my understanding that she changed jobs to get away from Julio. He blamed Ernesto."

"We were told that Ernesto might have been looking into something at work," Beckett told him. "Would you know anything about that?"

"I have no idea what that would be about," Murphy replied. "Except for Julio, everyone liked Ernesto."

"Thank you Mr. Murphy," Beckett said, standing as Murphy stood, and extending her card. "Please call if you think of anything else."

Murphy smiled down at Beckett. "I'll do that little lady."

As Murphy left, Castle could almost hear the growls as Beckett gritted her teeth. "He just doesn't know how easily you could kick his butt," Castle said.

Beckett should her head grimly. "Damn it Castle, right now I can't kick anyone's butt!"

Castle put his hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes with a smile of perfect innocence. "So shoot him!"

Beckett gave a wry laugh. "Let's talk to the next one."

Lucinda (call me Lu) Keller was a hearty woman. She was stocky with muscle, not fat, and looked capable of doing exactly what she did, tossing the huge boxes called gaylords around with no difficulty whatsoever. "Detective," she said, surveying Beckett's slender frame, "don't you ever eat anything? You look like a strong wind would blow you over."

"I'll be going out for a cheeseburger as soon as we're finished," Beckett responded dryly. "Ms. Keller, did you know Ernesto Garcia?"

"Sure, the kid was an artist. He could put a flat right on target within a fraction of an inch. He understood the operation, too. It's such a shame. He could have gone places. Sad for his girl Esperanza, too. They were good together. I could have seen them getting married some day."

"You know Esperanza?" Beckett asked.

"Sure, she was our receiving inspector until that idiot Julio Cortez started hitting on her. I think that Julio and Ernesto might have gotten physical if she hadn't left. She didn't want to see Ernesto get into trouble."

"Have you ever heard about Ernesto looking into some problem at work?" Castle asked.

"No," Lu replied, "but Ernesto looked at everything. He was always interested in learning all he could about the company. He was a go-getter."

"So, do you want to go to Remy's for burgers?" Castle asked after Lu had left.

"You know Castle, I didn't when I said it, but I think I do now," Beckett answered.

Fortified by a burger, shake, and large order of fries, Beckett was ready to conduct her next interview. The slight, blond haired, blue eyed Jeremy Bonner looked as if he couldn't lift a watermelon.

"Mr. Bonner, what do you do at the plant?" Beckett asked.

"I handle all the shipping manifests and I'm a rigger."

"What does a rigger do?" Castle asked.

"I figure out how things can be lifted safely, by anyone. I use hoists, scissor tables, whatever it takes. I'm working toward a shop where we can handle anything without the requirement for muscle. Our insurance company loves it."

"Were you familiar with Ernesto Garcia?" Beckett continued.

"Ernesto was great! He really wanted to see the company move forward."

"Can you think of anyone who might have wanted to hurt him?"

"Of course there was Julio Cortez. Everyone knew that, but some of the old timers didn't like him either. Ernesto always thought that we could be better, faster, safer. Some people just don't like change. They were also afraid that a more efficient operation would cut into their overtime. He was in line for promotion and they didn't want to see it."

"Who exactly are you talking about?" Beckett asked.

"Perry Green, Jimmy Holt, and Archie Bittle."

After Jeremy had been sent on his way, Esposito signaled Beckett. "I put this one in the break room," Esposito softly told her. "I think you need to be a little careful with him."

Parker Boyd was a little different. He was quiet and spoke in a flat tone. His eyes darted all over the room, seeming to take everything in, but he didn't meet either Beckett's or Castle's eyes. "Mr. Boyd," Beckett asked, "did you know Ernesto Garcia?"

"Yes." Parker answered.

"Do you know what happened to him?" Beckett prompted.

"He died."

"That's right. Do you know anyone who might be happy about that?"

"I'm not good at knowing when people are happy."

Beckett tried to push a little bit more. "Can you think of anyone who might want to hurt him?"

"I don't know what people want unless they tell me. No one told me they wanted to hurt Ernesto."

"What do you do, Mr. Boyd?" Castle asked.

Parker looked puzzled. "What do I do where?"

"At work," Castle clarified.

"I fix things," Parker answered.

"What do you fix?" Beckett asked.

"Anything that's broken."

"OK, Mr. Boyd. Thank you for talking to us," Beckett told him. Boyd pulled back his hand when Beckett extended hers."

As they watched Parker Boyd walk to the elevator with a slight side to side motion, Beckett asked Castle what he thought was going on with Boyd.

"I've seen kids something like him at Up," Castle told her. "Probably somewhere at the high functioning end of the autism spectrum. He seems to be doing well, though. He's got a job and takes care of himself."

"Not very informative," Beckett commented.

"We may not have asked the right questions," Castle said. "You may want to talk to him again later."

"We get to have real fun now," Beckett quipped. "We get to see Perlmutter."

"Detective Beckett and Mr. Castle," Perlmutter greeted them. I have a time of death for you, between two and four yesterday afternoon. The murder weapon hasn't been found but it was made of wood, cheap wood. I found large splinters in the wound."

"There was wood like that making up, what did they call them flats, that were found around the victim. Could the murder weapon have come from one of those?" Castle asked.

"You'll have to check on that, or get the real detectives to check on it, Mr. Castle," Perlmutter sniped.

Beckett and Castle returned to the 12th to fill in the murder board. Ernesto had begun his shift at five A.M., so he had been killed after his workday ended. The actual location of the murder had not been found, but he had been taken from there back to the shop, placed on the flats, and the fork lift driven into him during the second shift break when everyone was out at the food truck affectionately known as the Roach Coach. Someone had to be very familiar with Ernesto's schedule and those of the other workers. That suggested an employee or ex-employee. Beckett started to list the suspects and was irritated to find that she didn't easily reach as high as she usually did on the board. "You want me to do that?" Castle asked, seeing her frustration.

"I'm fine, Castle," she retorted.

Castle stepped back and raised his hands. "Just offering, Kate."

Beckett listed Cortez, Green, Holt, and Bittle under suspects.

"We need to talk to all of these guys," Beckett said, tiredly rotating her shoulders.

"How about tomorrow?" Castle suggested gently "They're all on first shift and we can catch them together. We could get a pizza on the way home."

At the mention of pizza, Beckett gave him the look. They returned to the loft, picking up grilled chicken on the way. Castle made a quick salad to go with the chicken and Beckett put her feet up on a chair as they ate at the table.

"You want a hot bath?" Rick asked.

"That sounds wonderful," Kate said.

Rick filled the Jacuzzi tub with Kate's favorite bubbles and lit the candles Kate had placed around the bathroom. Despite Kate's protestations that she didn't need any help, Rick helped her undress, placing gentle kisses where the clothing had been. Rick steadied Kate as she stepped into the tub and gently washed her body before leaving her to soak. When Kate was thoroughly relaxed and slightly wrinkled, Rick helped her out again wrapping her in a fluffy oversized towel.

"What would you like to do now?" Rick asked.

Plunging her fingers into Ricks hair, Kate pulled his head down letting her lips reach his. "I'll think of something."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The heat had been turned up, the wastebasket was gone and Kate could sleep the way she liked best, with one leg sticking out from the covers. Rick lightly ran the tips of his fingers over the smooth warm skin. The city lights cast their glow on Kate's sleeping face. She was so beautiful. She was challenging and often infuriating and he couldn't imagine loving anyone more. Rick brushed a silky lock out of Kate's face and her lashes lifted slowly. "What time is it?" she asked.

"Four thirty," Rick answered. "Even the guys on the loading dock haven't arrived yet."

"What are you doing up?" Kate asked.

"Looking at you," Rick answered. "I love looking at you."

Kate snorted. "You must love bed hair and blue ankles."

Rick cupped her cheek. "I love you."

Tears came unbidden to Kate's eyes at the look in Rick's. Sometimes her annoyance with his little boy antics made her forget the man behind them, but at this moment his love was overwhelming. Her hand stroked his face, feeling the roughness against her palm. Her glance went briefly to his lips before returning to his eyes, as they drew closer. Their mouths met, first with gentleness, then with an electrifying flash of need. They came together, each move, each touch, contributing to a rising tide. The sensual wave crested, its energy washing over their joining and in each other they were complete.

It was still quite early when Rick made the heart topped lattes to go with their morning scramble. They were able to linger over the richness of the coffee until the first streaks of orange and pink began to penetrate the windows of the loft. Kate had chosen the purple high tops that morning, warmed by Rick's choice of her favorite color. She paired them with a soft purple blouse under an austere blazer and felt prepared to meet the day.

Beckett and Castle went directly to Mastco, the company where the murder had taken place, to interview the first shift employees. They first sat down with Bennie Ramirez. He reminded Castle of a pre-Al Capone's vault Geraldo Rivera. His accent was pure Manhattan except when he spoke his name and he was clearly both earnest and ambitious. He explained that he was working while going to school and didn't socialize much with his co-workers because he spent any spare moments he had, studying. He was acquainted with Ernesto but didn't really know him. Bennie was adamant that he ignored company politics and if there was any intrigue going on, he didn't know about it.

Beckett was really anxious to interview the old timers described by Jeremy Bonner. Perry Green was first. Perry Green was large. His shoulders were broad, even broader than Castle's. In his steel toed boots he stood at least six feet four inches, and his biceps strained at his work shirt. Despite the streaks of gray in his hair, he looked able to lift a small car with little effort.

Green looked Castle up and down dismissively, smirking at the upscale haircut and well tailored shirt. He gave Beckett a smile that might only be described as indulgent. "What can I do for you, Detective," he asked.

"Tell me about Ernesto Garcia," Beckett told him, with no smile whatsoever.

"He was an OK kid," Perry answered, "maybe a little pushy. He definitely had his eye on moving up. He talked a lot about modernizing the place."

"You didn't like that." Castle stated.

Perry gave Castle a peeved look. "I say if it ain't broke, don't fix it." Perry told him. "Things around here work fine,"

Perry looked at Beckett and pasted a smile back on his face. "Anything else you'd like to know, Detective? I really need to get back to work."

"Just this, Mr. Green, can you think of anyone who might want to hurt Ernesto."

"No, Detective," Perry assured Beckett. "We have a good crew. Everyone gets along.

"Thank you, Mr. Green," Beckett said. "I'll let you know if we have any more questions."

Green smiled at Beckett, ignored Castle, and strode away. Beckett wished she wasn't craning her neck looking after him. "He's lying," Castle said. "He should have at least mentioned Julio Cortez. He would know about that. Almost everyone does. I don't think this is the happy crew he makes them out to be."

"That may be, Castle," Beckett agreed, "but it doesn't make him a murderer."

Jimmy Holt was a wiry man of indeterminate age. He greeted Beckett and Castle politely. "I don't know what I can tell you, Detective. I left after my shift. I didn't see anything."

"Just tell us about Ernesto Garcia," Beckett prompted. "Can you think of any reason anyone would want to kill him?"

"Take a swing at him, maybe. Kill him, no," Holt replied.

"Could you elaborate,"Castle asked.

"He had a tiff with that kid, Julio Cortez about a girl. Some of the guys thought he was trying to take away their overtime. Nothing that serious."

Beckett could see that she wasn't going to get any new information and let Holt go back to work. "Love and money," Castle said."Two classic motives for murder and we keep hearing about them."

"Yeah, too bad we're not hearing anything approaching evidence," Beckett told him. "We've still got Bittle and then we should take a run at Julio. I wish we had the real crime scene."

"Hang on, Beckett," Castle told her. "I've got an idea. Let's find Parker Boyd."

"What for?" Beckett asked.

"I think I might have the right question for him."

Parker Boyd was busily repairing a printer in one of the offices. He looked up, but held on to the needle nose pliers he had been using. "Parker," Castle asked. "Have you seen any blood?"

"Where?"

"On the floor, or the wall, or outside," Castle explained.

"Yes," Parker answered.

"Can you show us?" Castle asked.

"Yes," Parker said, but didn't move.

Castle gave a little smile and rephrased. "Parker, please show us the blood."

Parker took Castle and Beckett to an area behind the main building of Mastco and pointed to a few nearly invisible drops leading to another building, locked with a padlock.

"What is that?" Castle asked pointing to the building.

"Storage building," Parker answered.

"Do you have a key?" Beckett asked.

"No." Parker answered.

Beckett was catching on. "Who has the key, Parker?"

"No one," Parker answered.

"Where is the key?" Castle asked.

"On the wall in the shop."

Beckett asked Parker to show her where the key was. It was attached to a metal panel, hanging on a nail. She put on her gloves before handling it, and she and Castle unlocked the door to the storage building. It only took a look. Things had been knocked over and scattered and a splintered two by four lay on the ground. Beckett called CSU.

While she was waiting for CSU to arrive, Beckett wanted to interview Archie Bittle and Julio Cortez but Archie Bittle had called in sick and Julio Cortez was scheduled for swing shift. Beckett called Esposito to pick Julio Cortez up and bring him to the 12th.

Beckett and Esposito sat across from Cortez with Castle sitting against the wall in a chair. "Mr. Cortez, we've been told by several of your co-workers that you had a problem with Ernesto Garcia over Esperanza Gonzales," Beckett began.

Julio sat silently staring at Beckett. Esposito repeated the query in Spanish. Julio continued to stare. Beckett stood, giving Julio her signature glare. Grinning at her, Julio maintained his silence. After hours of frustration, Esposito took Julio to holding.

Rick took Kate to dinner before they returned to the loft. He found a tiny restaurant. Like the Rivington Club, there was no sign, but the door was unlocked. There were only four tables, each covered with a white cloth and lit by a single candle. There was no menu, the chef prepared a special meal for each night. A house wine was available, but Rick passed on it because of possible interactions with Kate's pain medication. They began with an exquisite antipasto followed by a creamy pasta. Dessert was tiramisu.

They returned to the loft comfortably full and cuddly. "Ready to go to sleep?" Rick asked Kate as she snuggled into his shoulder.

"No," Kate murmured, "but I'm ready to go to bed."

A/N Just in case anyone should think I'd make fun of a person with autism or any other disability, nothing could be further from the truth. I've raised two sons with autism. One thing I have learned is that getting information out a person with autism can be like getting information out of a search engine. You have to ask the right questions. That is what I'm trying to show with Parker. Sometimes it can be funny in a laughing instead of crying sort of way.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Kate could have sworn the walls were shaking. It was strange because Rick usually didn't snore, but he was snoring that morning. She lightly shook his shoulder. "What?" Rick asked muzzily.

"You're snoring."

"My nose is stuffed up," Rick said. "I think I need a hot shower."

The bathroom was filled with steam. Rick stood under one of the streaming nozzles in the double shower trying to clear his sinuses. The space under the other nozzle was taken up by a waterproof bench. Rick had used it when he had a broken knee and recycled it to accommodate Kate's ankle. The door of the enclosure opened and Kate stepped in and knelt on the bench, bringing her head almost level with Rick's. Rick turned to face her. "Kate, if I have a cold, I don't want to give it to you."

Kate smiled. "If you do, you probably already have. Maybe we can do something to clear you out."

Rick looked at her doubtfully. "Kate, are you sure?"

Kate put her arms around his neck. "Absolutely."

Vapor rose around them as they created steam of their own. As their excitement grew, Rick's head became clearer, if his mind didn't. Rick held Kate tightly, not trusting her perch on the bench. They came together in a cocoon of flowing warmth, as the heat of their bodies met that of the water. Renewed, they stepped out together, ready to meet the day.

"Yo!" Esposito called as Beckett and Castle stepped off the elevator. "It looks like we're going to have to let Julio go. We have about five witnesses who saw him at the food truck at the time someone put a fork in Ernesto."

"Then why wouldn't he talk?" Castle asked.

"I don't know what to tell you bro," Esposito answered. "Maybe he just hates cops. He does have a juvie record, but he didn't hang Ernesto on that forklift."

"All right," Beckett said with disgust, "process him out. Did we get the report from CSU?"

"On your desk," Esposito answered.

Beckett studied the report while Castle went to make coffee. She handed it to him when he returned, leaning back to drink the warm brew as he speed read the file. "What do you think?" Beckett asked.

"Having hundreds of prints on the key to the storage unit makes sense. People would grab it every day. Not having prints on the murder weapon is not helpful, but I noticed a lot of employees at Mastco wear work gloves, so it's really no surprise. The footprint is interesting."

"We'd have to determine when it got there, Castle," Beckett pointed out, "and I don't know how we'd do that. I want to know what's going on with Julio, too. He may not have murdered Ernesto, but he's hiding something. We still need to talk to Bittle. We can start there."

Castle looked at Archie Bittle and immediately thought of Archie Bunker. Bittle was round, white haired, and spoke with a quintessential Queens accent. He gave Beckett a smarmy smile.

"Mr. Bittle," Beckett asked, "did you know Ernesto Garcia?"

"Yeah, I knew the little jerk. Only been here a few years and thought he knew better than everyone. Not surprised someone knocked him off."

"Someone?" Beckett asked.

"Wait a minute, girlie, I didn't do nothin' to Ernesto."

Beckett stood, distressed at not being able to glare down at Bittle. Compensating, she instilled toughness into her voice. "So where were you between two and four the day before yesterday?"

"I cut out at one thirty as soon as the shift was over. A bunch of us did. We have a bowling league. I was there all afternoon. You can check."

"Believe me I will, Mr. Bittle," Beckett assured him with as much menace as she could muster.

As Bittle stalked off, Beckett noticed that Castle was rubbing his forehead. "Headache?" Beckett asked.

"No," Castle replied, "stuffed up again. It happened the minute we walked into the building. Maybe I'm allergic to something here."

"There is a smell in here, maybe some kind of a solvent. I noticed it yesterday, but there's more today."

"Whatever it is," Castle replied, "my sinuses don't like it. Are we almost done here?"

Beckett nodded. "Yeah, I want to talk to Esperanza again."

As they were leaving, Castle noted that a slightly orange fluffy substance was being spread on the floor. "What is that?" he asked Lu, who was working nearby.

"That's sweeping compound," she answered, "It helps get any dust or gunk off the floor. We like a clean shop."

Castle shook his head and sniffled. "You'd never know it," he muttered to himself.

It was a long trip to find Esperanza. Her new employer was in Staten Island. Esperanza most likely took the Staten Island Ferry, but with a car, it was necessary for Beckett and Castle to take the Verrazano Narrows Bridge. When they finally arrived, Esperanza explained that they would have to wait until she got a break, or she would get docked. Castle got a couple of sodas from a vending machine and he and Beckett sat down in the break area to wait. Beckett propped a blue high top encased foot on a chair. "Ankle hurt?" Castle asked.

"It's not bad," Beckett answered. "How's your nose?"

"It cleared up about halfway across the bridge. We weren't at Mastco that long. I must not have gotten much of a dose."

Esperanza looked tired. "I only have ten minutes," she told Beckett.

"I'll try to make it quick," Beckett assured her. "I need you to think about anything Ernesto might have said about what might have been going on at Mastco. Anything at all."

"He really didn't say much. He said something about shipping things that shouldn't be shipped. I don't know what he was talking about."

"How about Julio Cortez?" Castle asked. "Was he involved?"

"I don't know," Esperanza answered. "Please, I really need to get back to work."

"Thank you for talking to us," Beckett said. "This is my card. If you remember anything, please call me, anytime."

Esperanza nodded her agreement and quickly took off.

"Do you think Esperanza was telling the truth about not knowing anything?" Castle asked on the drive back to Manhattan.

"I don't know Castle, but we do have to look into what's going on with the shipping down at Mastco. We need to get the records."

"Please tell me we're not going back to Mastco."

"I can call Espo to get them and bring them to the precinct. We can go over them there.

"Thank you," Castle said, leaning over to plant a quick kiss on her temple.

Castle, Beckett, and Esposito sat around the table in the conference room slogging through stacks of shipping inspections, manifests, and invoices. "Do we even know what we're looking for?" Esposito asked.

I don't know, Espo," Beckett said. "Something that doesn't look right."

As eyes blurred and shoulders stiffened, they were no further along. Beckett eventually agreed to try again in the morning and after picking up Mexican food, she and Castle returned to the loft. They calmed the spiciness with flan, feeding the last sweet spoonfuls to each other.

Feet up, Kate leaned back in her chair with a satisfied sigh. "Spicy and sweet, that's the way to end a day."

Fingers combing into her hair, Rick leaned in and tasted her lips. "I couldn't agree more."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The pages kept drifting down, one after another, covering him. Rick batted away the sheets of paper landing on his face, the motion of his body dragging Kate to wakefulness. She grabbed his flailing hand, pulling him out of the troubled dream. "What was that about?" Kate asked.

"I was being buried by the shipping documents from Mastco. I think if I had stayed asleep it would have been death by a thousand paper cuts."

"That would seem like karma for a writer," Kate observed.

"Point taken," Rick agreed, "but I'm sure there's something in all those dead trees somewhere, I just can't get a handle on it."

"Get your mind off it for a while," Kate suggested enticingly. "You can get a handle on something else."

"Now what," Rick asked, stroking a finger along the bare shoulder revealed by her sleep shirt,"would that be?"

Kate brought her lips to his with a gentle smile, her palms caressing each side of his sleep roughened face. They took their time, slowly pulling clothing aside, until the touch of skin against skin ignited an urgency. They came together, almost in collision, needing more closeness than seemed physically possible. Touching and tasting as they moved, they reached for the final surge, clinging to each other as it engulfed them.

Kate decided to try out her silver and gray high tops but was having trouble getting one of them on. "I think there's something stuck in there," she complained as Rick crouched to help her.

Rick held the shoe upside down and shook it A piece of gray cardboard fluttered out. "You were blocked by inspector number 12," he announced, as a looked of realization appeared on his face. "Inspections! If a shipment isn't right, it wouldn't be signed off at inspection. We need to match the manifests with the inspection reports!"

"OK, tiger," Kate said as she put her foot back in her shoe. "We need to get to the precinct first."

Castle's enthusiasm flagged as he and Beckett pursued the tedious job of actually matching the documents. After several hours, a pattern emerged. About twice a week a flat, labeled as containers of cleaning solution was shipped, with no matching inspection documents. All the shipments went to the same place, Rotunda Enterprises. The signature on the shipping authorization was the mountainous George Murphy. Beckett had Esposito send some uniforms to bring him in.

Beckett looked through the observation window at George Murphy. She had deliberately left him sitting there for an hour to stew. Castle could see the thunder in her eyes as she watched. "Ill give him 'little lady!'"

Beckett went in to the box alone, turned a chair backwards and straddled it. "You lied to me, Mr. Murphy," she said.

"I don't know what you're talking about Detective, Murphy said with the slightest tremor in his voice.

"You told me that everyone liked Ernesto. That wasn't true."

"So I don't like to speak ill of the dead, what of it?"

"Ernesto thought there was something wrong with some of the shipments. What was wrong may have been you. Are all shipments supposed to be inspected?"  
"Yes. Why?"

"You've been signing off on uninspected shipments. I think Ernesto was asking too many questions and you didn't like it."

"Detective, it is obvious that you don't understand the industrial environment, so let me explain it to you. Each job has a traveler. Every spot on that traveler is stamped, including one for final inspection. My job is to check that all the stamps are there. I wouldn't know if there was an actual inspection report. Those stay with Quality Assurance. Even if I did know, I wouldn't have killed Ernesto over it. At most, it would be note in my personnel file. I'm retiring soon and I could care less. If you want to look for the person who used that stamp, good luck. People grab each others' stamps all the time."

Beckett was not to be intimidated. "Mr. Murphy, I can assure you, we will check on that. Now you can tell me where you were at three o'clock the day Ernesto Garcia was killed."

"You would have saved a lot of time by asking me that first, Detective. I was at O'Doul's bar, with about twenty witnesses."

Out of pure fury, Beckett kept Murphy waiting long after she checked his alibi. She was not pleased to find that he was where he said he was, but had to let him go.

Beckett scrubbed her hands over her face. "I need to check what Murphy told me about the stamps. If that's true, we may have a lot of people to look at. It looks like another trip to Mastco. Are you up for that?" she asked Castle.

"Before we do that, I have an idea," Castle said. "There's a group of guys who work at companies on the docks who are regulars at the Olde Haunt, they're holdovers from when Donnie owned the place. We could go talk them up."

"That sounds good, Castle."

Castle declared a couple of rounds on the house and had a bar full of friends. The regulars were glad to see a generous owner and the beautiful woman with him. Brian fixed Beckett a drink that looked alcoholic and she smiled and flirted as if it was. When Beckett expressed interest in their work, the men were more than happy to share their experience. Beckett learned that in the hustle to get things out the door, steps were indeed skipped. Even though stamps were officially signed out to only one person, they were often grabbed as needed. Much as she hated to hear it, the obnoxious George Murphy might have been telling the truth.

Full of bar snacks, Rick and Kate returned to the loft. "Are you all right?" Rick asked.

"Just frustrated," Kate answered. "I wish I could have a real drink."

"Would ice cream help?" Rick asked.

"Not hungry," Kate answered.

Rick began messaging Kate's shoulders. "You've eliminated alcohol and food," he suggested with a crooked smile. "There's only one thing left."

"Sleep?" Beckett asked teasingly.

Rick pulled her in for a long, slow kiss. "Later."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Kate's stomach was grumbling. Chips and pretzels had not gotten her through the night and she wanted real food. She was surveying the contents of the refrigerator when Rick planted a kiss on her neck. "Anything interesting in there?' he asked as he wrapped his arms around her, looking over her shoulder.

"Food," Kate answered. "I'm starving."

Rick looked down at Kate's bare feet and still purple, unsupported ankle. "Why don't you sit?" he suggested. "I can whip something up."

"I always get nervous when you say that," Kate told him. "I'm not eating a s'morelet."

"No s'morelets," Rick promised.

Rick poked around, pulling out Mexican leftovers. Combining them with fresh eggs, he produced a southwestern omelet. Pairing it with slices of ripe tomato forming a smiley face on the plate, he put it in front of Kate.

Kate attacked the food with enthusiasm. As she finished, Rick noticed a tiny drop tomato juice on Kate's chin and couldn't resist kissing it away.

"What are you doing?" Kate asked.

"You had your breakfast," Rick said cupping her face in his hands,"I'm having mine."

Rick stepped into the "V" of Kate's legs as she sat on the high stool at the counter.

"Rick," Kate cautioned. "Martha could come down at any minute."

"She can get her own breakfast," Rick replied, scooping Kate off her perch. Laying her on the bed, he stretched out beside her and began tiny nibbling kisses down her neck. He pushed her sleep shirt aside, dining on the sensitive skin above her collarbone.

Kate moved restlessly beneath him, burying her fingers in his hair. She gasped as he moved lower, paying loving attention to her scar. "Rick!" she cried, pushing her body against his, meeting his heat with her own.

Rick raised his head, then brought his lips to meet hers. They clung together becoming one, as the current surging through them grew. The point of overload reached, jolts of energy exploded outward. Kate collapsed in Rick's arms as the electrical storm receded.

Beckett and Castle pulled up at Mastco. "You want to stay in the car?" Beckett asked.

"No," Castle said. "I can deal with a stuffy nose for a while. You may need my keen eye to crack this case."

Beckett snorted. "OK, but if you're snoring again tonight, you might be doing it on the couch." Beckett sniffed as she and Castle entered the building. "You may have lucked out. I don't smell anything."

They found the quality assurance manager, Bernie Rothschild, a fussy, nervous man. "You have to understand," Bernie said. "There is an eternal war between quality and production. The push is always to get things out the door. No matter what the rules are, or how I try to make them work, they'll do what they need to do to ship, and leave me to square it with an auditor later. When I assign a person a stamp, they have to sign an agreement that they will keep possession of it and it will be unique to them. But I know that when I'm not watching they pass those things around like trading cards. There's just no way of knowing who actually stamps the traveler that an inspection was made."

"Mr. Rothschild," Beckett said, "could you at least give us a list of probable culprits?"

"Detective, if I were you, I'd look through the time cards and see who was actually here when the shipments took place. There will be pick-up times in the shipping log. That's the best advice I can give you."

The payroll manager, Agnes Toomey was unwilling to let time cards out of the building and Beckett did not want to go through the paperwork of obtaining a warrant. Agnes did allow Beckett and Castle to sort through time cards in the break room. They obtained the shipping log from a very unfriendly George Murphy. They were making a long list including Lu Keller, Jeremy Bonner, Bennie Ramirez, Parker Boyd, Perry Green and Jimmy Holt, as well as others rotated from other shifts.

Castle sat up from his hunched position over the table and stretched. "How are the sinuses?" Beckett asked.

"Fine," Castle answered. "Whatever they were doing that bothered me, they aren't doing it today."

"We are going to need some help checking alibis for all these people," Beckett said. "Let's go to the 12th and rope in Esposito and anyone else we can get."

"You don't have to ask me twice," Castle said, jumping out of his chair.

On the way out, Castle noticed that the sweeping compound was again being spread on the floor. "How often do you do that?" he asked Lu.

"No special schedule," she said, "when we have time and when we need to."

Beckett was able to use Esposito and Karpowski. While the detectives hit the phones, Castle went out and bought a massive buffet of Chinese food complete with a chef who made sizzling rice soup in front of the hungry horde. When all the faces had been stuffed and phone calls had been made, the whittled down list of suspects was posted on the murder board. It consisted of Jeremy Bonner, Bennie Ramirez, Parker Boyd, and Jimmy Holt.

"Beckett, you don't really think Parker Boyd murdered Ernesto, do you?" Castle asked.

"No Castle, I don't," Beckett answered. "But you know that I have to follow the evidence. We'll bring the others in first. We may never have to get to Parker."

Beckett sent some uniforms to bring in Jeremy Bonner and Beckett and Castle took him on together.

"Here it is, Jeremy," Beckett said. "We know that Ernesto was worried about shipments leaving Mastco uninspected. Those shipments were stamped inspected on the their travelers. You had access to the stamps and you have no alibi. As the person in charge of shipping manifests, you could have made any shipment happen."

Bonner looked shocked. "I didn't stamp anything," he protested. "The guys from production do that when they want to hurry things up. I have no interest in doing it. I do the manifests from the paperwork they give me. I'm trying to move the company toward ISO, international certification. We'd be safer and better. If I phonied something up like that, I'd be sabotaging myself. Ernesto knew that."

"Pity we can't ask him." Castle commented.

"You can ask just about anyone else." Jeremy retorted. "You can start with Bernie Rothschild. We've been working together trying to make better things happen and it's been a hard fight."

"We'll be doing that," Beckett told him. Jeremy was left sitting.

"What do you think?" Castle asked Beckett.

"I'll be talking to Bernie Rothschild, but we don't have anything to hold Jeremy on and I don't think he did it. Unless he's a very good actor, he's pretty passionate about what he does."

"Bernie Rothschild had left Mastco for the day, but Beckett was able to get him on the phone at home. He confirmed what Jeremy had told Beckett and Beckett let Jeremy go home."

"Kate,"Rick asked. "Do you want to go out tonight?"

"What brought that on?" Kate asked.

"I really want to see you in those glitter high tops and this case is going nowhere. I think you could use a break."

"Where do you want to go?"

"Birdland. Deedles is singing."

Kate's face glowed with a bright smile. "Sold."

Kate rested a glittery foot on a chair and her head on Rick's shoulder, listening to the smoky voice and jazz piano of Diane Schuur, affectionately known as "Deedles". Surrounded by the music, the 12th seemed a world away, and the evening passed too quickly. Kate and Rick returned to the loft trailing little bits of shiny mylar.

As soon as the door of the loft closed, Kate framed Rick's face with her hands. "Thank you," she said, "that was just what I needed."

"Always."

A/N Diane Schuur really is playing at Birdland in N.Y. right now. Things will break next chapter. I've dropped a lot of clues.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

The first rays of sunlight reflected off the sparkles in the locks splayed over the pillow. "Kate," Rick whispered, "you have glitter in your hair."

Kate opened her eyes. "That would be your fault, it went everywhere when you pulled my shoes off last night."

Rick regarded it mischievously. "I like it. It's festive."

Kate regarded his face. "You actually have some on your nose."

Rick breathed in the aroma of cherries. "That's because I can't resist sticking it in your hair."

Kate's playful smile was full of all the things she wasn't saying. "You just can't resist me," she purred, pulling herself against him.

Kate had immediate evidence that her statement was true. Rick pulled her even closer as their lips met. Glitter clung to Rick's hands as they tangled in Kate's hair. As he met her in the most intimate closeness, the glow grew from within, expanding outwards until exploding in a shower of sparkling light, eclipsing any glitter ever made. The light receded as they rested, leaving only the shine in their eyes.

"Castle," Beckett noticed as they made their way to the kitchen, "I left glitter footprints."

"Don't worry about it," Castle told her, "I think the housekeeper is in today. Housekeeping!"

"Castle, I know that look. What have you got?"

"Beckett, we couldn't do anything with the footprint because we didn't know when it was made, but I think there's a way we may be able to find out."

"How?" Beckett asked.

"That orange stuff they throw on the floor at Mastco. A footprint would be swept up when they use it. We need to know the last time they used it before the murder."

"Castle, who would remember that?"

The answer came out of their mouths simultaneously, "Parker."

Beckett and Castle found Parker Boyd repairing the motor on a fork lift. "Parker," Castle asked, "do you mind answering more questions."

"Can I keep fixing the engine?" Parker asked.

"Sure," Beckett assured him. "Just answer while you work."

"OK," Parker agreed.

"Parker," Castle inquired, "do they sweep out the storage building the same way they sweep the shipping area."

"Yes."

"Did they sweep the storage area before the murder?" Beckett continued.

"Yes." Parker affirmed.

The excitement was evident in Beckett's eyes."What time did they sweep it the day Ernesto was killed?"

"Twelve thirty-six P.M." Parker answered.

Beckett and Castle looked at each other. "That would have been right before the end of first shift," Castle said.

Beckett smiled. "We've got a footprint from our murderer!"

"Thank you, Parker, you've been a big help," Castle told the young man.

"You're welcome," Parker replied and continued to work on the engine.

"Castle," Beckett asked, "do you remember the size of that footprint?"

Castle gave Beckett a list of disbelief at the idea that he could forget that kind of a detail. "It was an eight and a half."

Ever thorough, Beckett asked Parker his shoe size. Without missing a beat, he told her that he wore a nine. Making a round of Mastco, Beckett and Castle obtained sizes from the other suspects. There were two who wore size eight and half shoes: Bennie Ramirez and Jimmy Holt. Beckett called uniforms to bring both men to the precinct.

Beckett interviewed Jimmy Holt first. The wiry man shifted in his seat. "Mr. Holt," Beckett began matter-of-factually. "A footprint was found at the scene of Ernest Garcia's murder. It was an eight and a half. You wear an eight and a half. You have no alibi."

"I didn't kill Ernesto," Holt protested. "The kid was a pain in the neck, always asking questions, But I didn't kill him. Why would I?"

"Ernesto was looking into shipments that went out under a forged stamp. You had access to that stamp. Ernesto found out."

"I didn't forge anything," Holt said, "and even if I did, who cares? Management doesn't as long as we get shipments out on time. That wuss Bernie Rothschild might, be he doesn't have any juice. Ernesto didn't have any juice either. There'd be no point."

"Mr. Holt, right now we're getting a warrant to look at all your shoes, including the one's you're wearing. If you cooperate now, I can help you with the D.A.. If you wait until we find the shoes you wore to kill Ernesto Garcia, you go away for life."

"Knock yourself out, Detective. You aren't going to find anything because I didn't kill Ernesto."

"Did you get a warrant?" Castle asked Beckett, he closed the door on Jimmy Holt, who was still sitting in the box.

"No," Beckett answered, "but I'm going to, for Holt's shoes and Bennie Ramirez's. I'll make the call and then we'll see what Bennie Ramirez has to say."

"You could have at least let me have my books in here to study while you kept me waiting," Bennie complained as Beckett and Castle entered interrogation room two.

Beckett ignored his complaint. "Mr. Ramirez, any idea why your footprint would be at the murder scene?" Beckett asked.

Bennie's eyes widened and he scrubbed the palms of his hands across his jeans. "I don't know what you're talking about," he retorted.

Beckett stood, staring down at Bennie. "The killer wore an eight and a half shoe, your size Mr. Ramirez. You had access, you have no alibi."

Bennie squared his shoulders and looked up, meeting her eyes. "And you have no motive."

"If we match your footprint to the one at the crime scene, we won't need one," Beckett told him, leaning on the table.

Bennie leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. "Well good luck with that, Detective."

Both suspects were put in holding while their shoes were gathered and checked by CSU for a match. There was none.

"Damn it Castle!" Beckett exclaimed. "One of those two did it. I know it!"

"Maybe the killer got blood on the shoes and dumped them." Castle suggested.

"I thought of that," Beckett told him. "I have uniforms searching dumpsters now, but we need something else. Bennie is right. We need a real motive. We need to know what was in those shipments that someone would kill to cover up."

"Those shipments were going to Rotunda industries," Castle mused. "what do we know about them?"

"Nothing," Beckett answered. "But we're going to find out."

Rotunda Industries was privately held, making the information available online minimal. Beckett filed the paperwork to get their financials. By the time she finished, it was well into the night.

"Beckett, we're not going to get any more tonight," Castle said. "You're tired. Let's go home."

Beckett grudgingly agreed.

"I have a surprise treat for you," Rick said as he and Kate made their way into the loft.

"Really?" Kate asked. "I'm not in the mood for games right now."

"You'll love this," Rick assured her. "Put those beautiful legs up and I'll bring it to you."

As Kate lay on the couch she could hear the blender whirring. "That better not be one of your mother's youthenizing smoothies," she warned.

"Kate, you wound me," Rick replied mournfully, bringing her a huge glass with both a straw and a long spoon sticking sticking straight up in its center. "It is the Castle special shake, skim milk, strawberry ice cream and fresh strawberries, with one perfect, red cherry."

Kate used the spoon to scoop a little bit into her mouth. "Rick, this is wonderful. Where did you get the stuff to make it? You've been with me all day."

"Please! I texted the housekeeper. The produce manager has crush on her. She gets the best fruit."

Beckett smiled "Well let's hear it for love!"

Castle dangled the cherry into her mouth as she pulled it from its stem. "My very thoughts."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Rick awoke with a smile. "What were you dreaming about?" Kate asked

"September," Rick answered.

"You were dreaming about your book tour for 'Raging Heat?'" Kate teased.

"Of course," Rick told her with a twinkle. "I was standing at the altar and Nikki Heat was coming down the aisle dressed in her best short slutty dress. She does have great legs."

"Mmmm," Kate mused. "I wonder where she gets those from?"

Rick slowly pulled the sheet from Kate's legs and ran his hand done a well toned thigh. "Must be my vivid imagination."

Kate punched Rick in the arm. "Ouch," he responded. "That's gonna leave a mark."

Kate ran her fingers gently over the offended flesh. "I can kiss it and make it better," she suggested.

"I can think of places where I'd rather have a kiss," Rick murmured, bringing his lips to hers.

"Me too," Kate whispered, just before their mouths met. It was a playful morning, finding new and interesting places to touch and taste. Rick gleefully expressed his appreciation for yoga and the flexibility Kate had gained from its practice, but as the play became more intimate, their flesh heated, and the mischievous smiles gave way to urgent need. Their explorations became almost desperate, the need to merge impossible to ignore. They came together in a fevered pitch that left them simultaneously spent and filled.

Castle made extra large lattes in preparation for the day ahead. Going through financial records was very rarely fun. He and Beckett set up in the conference room to try and learn something from the records of Rotunda industries. "Yo!" called Esposito as he came through the door. "Just heard from the uniforms searching the dumpsters for shoes. They found a pair of size eight and half Nikes four blocks from where Bennie Ramirez lives. They sent them to CSU to check for blood and a match to the footprint."

"I knew it was him!" Castle exclaimed. "Slow down Castle," Beckett told him. "It's a start, but we need more. We still need a motive."

"I've got something strange here," Castle said. "Rotunda sells cleaning solutions, but it doesn't look like they buy anything to make them. They get shipments from companies like Mastco and just resell them. And here's something else, the owners of Rotunda are the same as the names I saw on a couple of office doors at Mastco."

"I have something too," Beckett said, "a series of transfers of five thousand a month from Rotunda to the account of one Benjamin Ramirez."

"That would buy more than a few books," Castle commented.

"Let's see what we get from CSU, and then we'll talk to Bennie again," Beckett said.

"While we're waiting," Castle suggested, "lunch?"

"Sounds good to me," Beckett agreed.

Beckett doubted that a Remy's shake could compete with the one Castle had made for her the night before, so they picked another place. Ever aware of new culinary opportunities, Castle found a new lunch stop that specialized in sandwiches, paired with savory soups. The creations were huge, even by Castle's standards. He and Beckett shared a masterpiece filled with pastrami and slaw complemented by bowls of tomato basil soup. The slaw was sloppy and they took turns cleaning each others' faces. Dessert was a slab of seven layer chocolate cake with two forks, which they used to feed each other, oblivious to sweet knowing glances from other patrons.

They returned to a preliminary report from CSU. The shoes were a match to the print. Small drops of blood on them were the same type as Ernesto Garcia's blood and DNA was yet to come. "I can work with this," Beckett told Castle.

"It's over Bennie!" Beckett told the somewhat shaken man who sat opposite her and Castle in the box. We found your shoes. We know Rotunda was paying you. Your only chance to catch a break right now is to tell us who else is involved and how. If you do that, I'll put the D.A. In the mood for a deal.

Bennie put his face in his hands, defeated. "It was G.W. Perdue and Newton Crawford. They own Mastco and Rotunda. The solvents that Mastco uses get contaminated by heavy metals. That means that they're supposed to be labeled as hazardous waste and go to hazardous waste disposal. That's very expensive and Mastco was getting killed by the costs. Perdue and Crawford started Rotunda. It takes contaminated solvents from Mastco and other companies and repackages them as cleaning solutions. The solvents are poured off a couple of times a week, put in a bunch of smaller containers and shipped off to Rotunda. Shipping and disposal costs are cut to almost nothing. I supervise the operation and dummy up the paperwork and it's putting me through school. I couldn't pay for it any other way. When we were doing the pouring, the vapors from the solvent got into the air in the plant. Ernesto figured it out. He said Rotunda was selling poison. He was going to expose the whole operation. He wanted to stick a fork in me, so I stuck one in him.

"Beckett, what do you think is going to happen to Mastco?" Castle asked, after Bennie was led away and paperwork filled out to release Jimmy Holt.

"We'll turn what information we have over to the E.P.A., that will be their decision. There may be some heavy fines or Perdue and Newton might go to jail, or both. Mastco could be sold or it might keep right on going. Things like this can take years to settle."

"I'm worried about Parker," Castle said.

"I thought you would be," Beckett told him, "but Castle, he has talent. Have you ever tried to find some one who can really fix a printer, or an engine? He can do both. He's worth his weight in gold."

"I'm sure you're right," Castle told her, "but I think I'll keep an eye out for him anyway."

Beckett squeezed his hand. "I wouldn't expect you to do anything else."

It wasn't really cold for January, the temperature hovering in the forties, but rain beat against the windows of the loft. Rick lit a fire. Since Kate had been able to forgo her medication, they shared her favorite red wine, accompanied by a tray soft cheese and crackers. Kate leaned against Rick and closed her eyes. A picture formed in her mind. She was wearing a fairytale wedding dress of silver lace with yards of taffeta and glittering, silver sequined high tops. She smiled to herself and snuggled into Rick's arms.

Finis

A/N Thank you to all my reviewers. You've been terrific! The next story will be "Church Business," in which an official of the (very fictitious) Church of the Disciples of Abundant Joy will be the victim. It takes place after Deep Cover, but since I killed off Pi back in Growth, I think it will be AU for some following episodes. Rick and Kate are also looking for a wedding venue, which may end up AU.


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